Multidimensional Feathers
by Simply Isnt On
Summary: Inspired by this post on tumblr: "Because the interior of the Tardis is in a separate dimension and Castiel is a multidimensional being, his wings can be viewed when he stands inside it." And my mind went "OH" and ran with it. Hope you enjoy. :)


Castiel's had never really thought about his wings, except to measure his grace. In heaven they were always on display, blinding beneath the light of God's love, and when he walked among humans they stayed low, tucked close against his shoulders to keep them out of his way. Sometimes he would mantle them, using them to shield someone or to intimidate with their shadows. Around his family, it was common to feel hands always touching one's wings, laying feathers back into place and smoothing them until they shone from within with the brightness of his soul.

Altogether, they'd never been that unusual. He couldn't see them when he had a host, not the way humans would if they could see them. So he never knew how beautiful they were until a very angry man made one small mistake.

* * *

><p>"Jack, look, I'm sorry I couldn't save her, but she was only human, she never would have-" <em>Crack!<em> Castiel's jaw dropped as he raised a hand to his stinging cheek, shocked. No one had ever slapped him before.

"Don't you ever talk about Gwen like that," the man said angrily, tears shining in his lashes as he glared at the angel. "She was never 'only' anything." With a scowl, he turned and stalked away, hands in the pockets of his trenchcoat.

Castiel had never intended to get the human killed, but she had never stood a chance against possession of evil itself, and in the end she had been rent apart. But that was no reason for Jack to leave, they still had a mission to complete and he could not leave now. With a frown, he bent space, appearing a block away, just in front of the Captain.

"Jack, you must understand, I never meant for anyone to-" The man pushed past him and stepped into a phone booth, making Castiel frown. Generally, people who knew him to be an angel treated him with more respect, but apparently people who didn't fear death didn't fear divine retaliation either.

Once again, Castiel bent space, slipping past the closed door of the phone booth to stand beside the Captain. "-get hurt." He stopped and his brow furrowed, taking in the space around him. "It did bend oddly…" he murmured, beginning to turn and take in the full room. There was a choked sound at his side, and the angel turned back to see Jack, another man, and two women staring past him in stunned silence. "What?"

"Doctor, why has he got wings?" the red-haired woman asked quietly, turning to look at the man beside her, who was staring at Castiel in bespectacled surprise.

"Haven't the foggiest, Donna," he replied, frowning as he stepped around the machinery he was standing behind. "Jack? Who's your friend?" At that, Jack seemed to remember himself and scowled, before the expression dropped from his face and he just looked sad.

"This is Castiel. An angel." The second woman choked a laugh and stepped forward.

"Yeah, can see that, Captain. _Bloody hell._" Castiel watched, still frowning, as the humans crowded around. The one with the glasses suddenly looked up at him and grinned, sticking out a hand.

"I'm the Doctor, and you're gorgeous!" the man declared without a trace of self-consciousness. "I've never seen wings like these! Mind you, feathers tend to be mainly in the Sol-Earth system, so no idea what you're doing here…"

Castiel took the man's hand in both of his and leaned forward earnestly. "How can you see my wings? They're not visible to- ah. But you're not human." He pursed his lips and looked at the two women, who were now staring at him too. "But how can they see my wings?" Suddenly Jack was laughing at him, and he would have been hurt by that, except then the Captain pulled out a mirror, and everything clicked.

It must have been that the space was bigger on the inside, airtight and trans-dimensional, but there he was, wings mantled proudly behind his shoulders, radiant feathers ruffled to appear bigger and stronger. No human in his memory had ever seen his wings before, not even his current host, and the sight would have made his own breath stop if he'd needed to breath. "Oh."

In the hours that followed, Castiel learned that the darker woman was a doctor too (apparently The Doctor didn't have a second name) and a child of Thursday, and the red haired woman hid her pain with bravado and sass. The Doctor himself, he found, kept his hurt and sadness buried deep, deeper even than all of the other humans currently within the TARDIS. And throughout all the chatter, the laughter and the tears and quiet companionship of the group, never did Castiel go more than a minute without someone's hands stroking his wings. He found, when he considered it, that the gentle touch felt like home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Because I can't post a link here to the post that inspired this work (though I'd like to), I will instead direct you to this link ( post/99403261069/aquart1999-superwho-headcannon-because-the ) and also ask you to please consider going to my AO3, which is under the same name, where I was able to link the post into my actual story. Hope you enjoyed.**


End file.
